La Lune
by Mariko Higa
Summary: My first fanfic. Light America/Canada oneshot.Please be kind when you review.


"La Lune"

It was a cool, relaxing evening. Alfred was sitting up in bed, staring out the window. Out there he could see the normal workings of the night. The blaring glare of the street lights, faint, dancing shadows cast by distant car headlights, trees moving in the breeze. He could hear the neighbors, who refused to come home at a reasonable hour, shuffle out of their car and into their house. And then there were the neighbors who left for work far too early in the morning. The line of trees along the edge of the neighborhood gave it a cozy feel. Just knowing the hustle and bustle of the city was just on the other side *sigh* at least there was something to separate him from that chaos.

In a small house at the edge of the suburbs, it was a typical night in an American city. Tall apartment complexes and buildings littered the skyline, glowing in an artificial light. The activity never stops. The city never sleeps. It is sleepless nights like these that Alfred reflects on the many nights he's gazed out this window. The repetition of the everyday just passing by. But it wasn't always like this. He averted his gaze down to his bed, which seemed so big now, as he recalled the nights when he was a child. When his little brother, Matthew would sleep beside hm.

It was a few days after England won control of Canada from France. Mattie, as Alfred affectionately called him, was terrified. Being brought to a new house, with a language he didn't speak, and being separated from his "Papa" so suddenly left him tormented and confused. Mattie, who only spoke French, was being forced to learn English. Angry, he rebelled in the only way he could; by refusing to learn and giving both Arthur and his tutor a hard time about it. Frustrated, Arthur decided to send Canada to stay with his brother. Perhaps, he reasoned, Alfred could get him to cooperate. They were about the same age, and brothers, after all.

When Alfred first met him, one of his features really struck him; Mattie's eyes. A deep blue, almost a violet hiding behind wavy, blonde locks. His eyes, spilling over with thoughts and emotions that he could not express any other way. Those glittering, beautiful eyes. Lost in America's foreign world, he clung to his brother throughout the day. Each day Alfred did his best to get to know Mattie better and try to teach him English. He would say words and phrases slowly, and take him out to places and point things out, carefully stating the English name for the object. Mattie would only stare wide eyed and incomprehensibly in to Alfred's eyes. Still, America tried.

At night Mattie slept with Alfred. He had insisted on this, of course. He knew how it felt to sleep alone in a new place far from home. He though, if Canada had a companion he might relax a little. A modest show of affection. Another attempt to reach out to him. As he lay in bed, America would watch Canada silently, waiting for him to finally unwind. Mattie only stared back with sweet, violet eyes until Alfred fell asleep. Looking in to those eyes Alfred saw the hurt, and tried to pull him closer to hug him. Mattie only squirmed out of his grip and continued to stare. "Not ready yet?" Alfred thought. "That's okay, take your time." This went on for few weeks. America's kind attempts at helping his brother, and Canada's light yet effective resistance. Alfred didn't know any French and now wished desperately that he did. He was finally starting to give up, when one night he felt it.

That particular night they were at their usual activity, staring until on (America) falls asleep when Alfred felt something. There, in what was just a few moments but felt like hours. Another language, hell, another world existed for only a few seconds. A perfect connection that inked them without words. An overwhelming feeling over came him; one that was beyond description. He shot up, the moonlight reflecting off his golden hair. He couldn't give up, heroes never gave up! He could get Mattie to open up. He would guide him and help him learn. Inspired by a force he didn't understand, he pulled Mattie upright so they sat together.

Alfred turned him towards the window. "See that, Mattie?" he said softly, pointing out the window. Mattie, still slightly shaken by his brother's sudden outburst nodded furiously. Alfred knew Mattie didn't really understand, but he took it as an opportunity. Their faces shone in the moon light, pale and soft. Slowly, and calmly, he tried again to teach Mattie. For some reason, to this day he couldn't explain, Mattie didn't fight him.

Mattie slowly, and with a heavy accent, began to pronounce and memorize simple English words and sentences. Something in Canada had defiantly changed, and it wouldn't be for another few hundred years that America even considered that Canada may have had felt "it", too. "See Mattie?", Alfred asked as he moved on in his "lesson". He pointed out objects till visible in the night; trees, lamps, and stars. He knew Mattie didn't have a real understanding of these words but, he had to learn somehow. He then pointed up at the moon. Before he could even get a single word out Mattie blurted something almost instinctively in French. "La Lune." "What?" "La Lune" he stated again, as if it were obvious. "The moon?" he asked, puzzled. "La Lune, the moon?" "Moon?" Mattie asked. "Yes, yes, that's right!" Finally, something was beginning to bridge the gap between them, even if the bridge was a small one. Finally, he was getting somewhere with him.

"Well England will be pleased to hear about this" he stated to no one in particular. His pronunciation is good and he's learned simple vocabulary and sentences to use in the every day. "So…uhh…Maybe you could teach me some French, huh?" Canada tilted his head off to one side, confusion in his eyes. "That's okay," America said quickly, "you can teach me later." "Oh," he remembered "what was your word for moon…La Lune, yes?" Mattie's eyes suddenly widened and he lunged forward, catching Alfred in a warm hug. Honestly, he was surprised than an obviously scatter brained Alfred could remember it. Startled by Mattie's sudden display of affection, Alfred could only sit stunned for a few moments. Then, cautiously, he wrapped his arms lovingly around his brother,

Years later, Alfred still looked back on that night .He had worked hard the day before to prepare things for the next world meeting. He was the host country this time, and it was important that everything was set up in advance. It was the calm, early spring weather that had brought those memories back to him crisp and clear. He tried to busy himself with work but he just couldn't seem to shake those thoughts. Through the years he and Mattie, now Matthew to him, had grown apart. Mixed with many fights and misunderstandings he and Canada were on less than "friendly" terms. He never meant for things to get like this and he longed to be close to "Mattie" once again. Night after night he would think. Think about Canada. Those gorgeous eyes and soft silky hair, those thoughts he could never seem to erase. A strange, yet strong longing that he had felt for so long.

The next morning, as America made his way to the building where the conference would be held, he spotted Canada standing outside the main entrance. He seemed to be whispering to himself while fixing his shirt. "Probably trying to psyche himself up for another dull meeting," Alfred thought as he walked slowly toward him. Canada finally finished his "pep talk" and quickly made his way into the building. America followed close behind feeling apprehensive and somewhat excited. He debated on whether or not to speak to Matthew before the meeting. "I don't want to make things worse", he thought trying to think of something to say. "Just talk to him" his inner voice urged. Finally, in the hall outside the conference room, he got the courage to say something.

America ran up next to him, throwing and arm around his shoulder. "'Sup?" he asked with a friendly, goofy grin. Canada, who obviously had no idea he was being followed, stumbled on account of the surprise and nearly fell. "God America, don't sneak up on me like that!" he hissed, annoyed. "Well excuuuse me, Princess." "Princess?" "You heard me" Alfred said bluntly as he quickened his pace to get to the door. He could hear Matthews's angry shouts behind him."Shit", he thought as he sped into the conference room, "I couldn't do it."

Matthew, who was close on Americas heels, paused before the door way and leaned against the wall. Attempting to regain his composure he thought "Always an asshole, it doesn't matter where or when. He's the host country, so one would assume he'd at least try to act more mature…perhaps those things are too much to ask…oh, what am I thinking?" Shaking his head as if it would rid himself of those thoughts he hurried into the conference room.

It was a plain room with a big U shaped table. A few of the other countries were already there, complaining about this-and-that. America was off to the side discussing something with Germany and a young blonde girl. "Must be Germany's new assistant" Canada figured as he took a seat at the table. A few minutes more and the other nations arrived. America took a seat about six chairs down from Canada. Distant, yet close enough to see him relatively well. After America had given a short introductory speech, the first of a long line of nations came to the front to speak. Several nations were giving presentations that day, and after about two hours, America was already board.

He happened to look over at Canada, his guilt over being such a jerk earlier eating away at him. Matthew was concentrating intensely on what Germany, the present speaker, was saying. His lovely eyes glued to the hulking blonde. This was driving Alfred crazy, he had to do something. He quickly pulled a blank sheet of paper from his briefcase, deciding to write Matthew a note. But what to write?

Matthew, who was not particularly interested in what Germany had to say, did his best to keep his mind from wondering. Thinking of America only frustrated him. Besides, Germany's new assistant was scary. If she had laser bean eyes half of the nations would be dead by now, her intense glare aimed toward those who was obviously not paying attention. "America", he thought "I don't know what to think of him. He's a jerk. He's always picking on me. I get blamed for his craziness. I can't stand his cocky attitude. He's nice….really nice. He was always there for me before. God, he smelled good earlier…"Blushing, Canada quickly brought himself back down to Earth and into Germanys' speech on some global issue that lost its meaning for Canada long ago.

Suddenly, England, who sat to his right, started to jab him with a folded piece of paper. Annoyed, he tried to swat it away, but England grabbed his hand and forced the note into it. Very carefully, he pealed his eyes off Germany and down to the note. A smile with a thumbs up was drawn on the outside. "Oh God, what does he want now?" He carefully opened the note

"Matthieu,

Je suis désolé avant. Je sais que je peux être parfois une secousse.

Il est important somthing j'ai eu l'intention de vous dire, pour une ruse maintenant.

Rencontrons-nous ce soir. Que diriez-vous à ma place, à sept? "

Shocked, Matthew looked up at Alfred. Now he was staring at Germany, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing. Mattie folded the note and put it in his jacket pocket. He couldn't help but smile as he thought about what America must be thinking. "I bet he's so worried", he giggled to himself, "I bet he's afraid I'll turn him down or say "eewww no!" His smile, however, quickly faded after a death glare from Germany's assistant. As she turned away, his smile returned. Leaning forward on the table, his cheek in his palm he thought "I guess French really is the language of love."

Notes: Please excuse my piss poor French. (I know only two languages; French is not one of them). I know, nothing big, but it's only my first story. It will get better, I swear!

The translation for the actual letter is: Sorry 'bout before. I know I can be a jerk sometimes. There is something important that I have been meaning to talk to you about. Lets meet at my place, say at seven tonight?


End file.
